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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143660">Unbecomng</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stxrks/pseuds/stxrks'>stxrks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Downton Abbey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabble, F/M, One Shot, Shameless Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:02:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>563</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143660</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stxrks/pseuds/stxrks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sybil needs to write. Tom is proving to be something of a distraction.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tom Branson/Sybil Crawley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Unbecomng</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Because we all need more Tom/Sybil smut.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lady Sybil Crawley taps her pen erratically against her desk, and forces herself to remember how to breathe. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You can easily finish this, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she reminds herself sternly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s just one measly letter of gratitude for a party invitation. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She’s written hundreds of these letters in her lifetime, all very boring and repetitive. So easy, it’s almost laughable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It just so happens that what would normally be a mundane task, is rendered impossible by Tom kneeling under her desk, between her legs. His strong, calloused hands are gripping her hips, not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough to take notice of, holding her in place as he devotes himself to bringing her pleasure. He licks and sucks on her with such enthusiasm, it’s hard to believe there’s anywhere else he’d rather be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sybil blushes to think about what her parents or her sisters - or Granny! - would think if they were to walk in on the pair of them. Her dress is bunched around her waist and her legs are bare. Her hair is askew, her face flushed. It’s unbecoming, it’s obscene, it’s wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And yet, it feels so incredibly right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She swallows and is just about collecting her thoughts, ready to pen the appropriate thanks to Aunt Rosamund, when Tom’s hot tongue applies an almost unbearable amount of pressure to her sex and makes her gasp aloud. She can feel his huff of laughter against her, and she raps him on the head for his smugness, which only makes him laugh again. Abandoning all pretence at letter writing, she flings her pen aside and clutches his soft hair. She feels his finger surrounding her opening, feels it enter with ease. She stifles a moan against her sleeve as he thrusts his finger inside her, then another with it, all the while, letting his tongue lap circles around her most sensitive part. She can feel a swelling building in her stomach, and she knows what’s approaching. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tom,” she mutters, through a blush. “I fear I’m going to - </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulls away from her and looks up, and her heart soars at how beautiful he looks, eyes dark with lust, hair strewn, mouth wet from </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s so filthy, but it sends a shiver of delight up Sybil’s spine. How wonderful and thrilling, to know that his worship of her body has rendered him like so. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my darling,” he mutters, peppering the skin of her inner thigh with light kisses. He nuzzles against her center, and finishes speaking before he resumes his task. “I would like nothing more.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then his mouth is back on her, instead of delivering sweet compliments, with rapt enthusiasm and his fingers are inside her again, thrusting rapidly. Sybil scrunches her eyes shut, and gasps as she reaches her peak. It’s exhilarating and leaves her breathless and dazed, and she thinks she truly understands why people like these kind of improper acts so much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tom finally draws back from her, a pleased smile on his face. “I knew you’d like it,” he says, with a self-satisfied grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be smug,” he berates him fondly. “It’s rather unbecoming.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laughs warmly, and kneels upwards, so that the pair of them are at eye-level. “I am rather unbecoming,” he mutters against her mouth, and Sybil shivers with the thrill of tasting herself on his lips. “It’s why you like me so much.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Feedback is a blessing x</p></blockquote></div></div>
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